Not happening.
Not yet.
“I think you can say whatever it is right here,” Colt replies firmly. His hand on me does not budge.
She sighs dramatically, folding her arms as Princess bounds out the door, tail wagging like mad. She launches herself at the boy, who giggles and pets her.
Macy, however, scowls. “Don’t let the mutt lick you, baby.”
“She’s not a mutt,” I bite back, already bristling.
Macy smirks, fake and unapologetic. “Right. Of course. Caleb, why don’t you go play with the dog, sweetie?”
The little boy walks over to the lawn with Princess in tow, the sight of him oddly sweet… and unsettling.
“All right,” Colt says, setting down his guitar and anchoring me tighter to his side. “What do you want, Macy?”
She hesitates. “It’s Caleb. He’s sick. I didn’t know where else to turn.”
Here we go.
I cross my arms, my pulse spiking.
“What’s wrong with him?” Colt asks.
“Kidney disease. It’s… it’s bad. I can’t work, and the bills are crushing me. I had to sell my car to keep food on the table. I know how this must sound—”
“Do you?” I ask sharply, my words cutting in. “Because it sounds a hell of a lot like you came running to your rock star ex for a payout.”
Colt’s grip on me tightens again.
Macy’s eyes flicker, but she doesn’t deny it. “It’s not just about money. Caleb needs a transplant. Without one, he’ll d-die.” She chokes on that last word, and for the first time, her façade cracks.
Colt exhales, rubbing his chest. “So, what are you asking? That we help you find a donor? How are we meant to do that?”
She hesitates, then glances between us again.
A wave of unease rolls through me.
Something’s coming.
I can feel it in my bones.
“I was tested. I’m not a match. But the doctor said the father almost certainly would be.”
Time stops.
Colt stares at her.
So do I.
My eyes drift back to the boy,Caleb.The same sandy hair. That dimple. A softness in his expression I’ve only ever seen on one man.
My chest hollows.
Because Caleb looks like Colt.
Colt swallows, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “So why haven’t you tested the father?”
